The Better Part of Valor
by Future-Imperfect
Summary: Carmichael/OFC ...trust me on this one... It's a fun fic I've enjoyed writing. Now complete subject to a possible sequel . Warning: Femslash, starts PWP, but develops. Read, Review, & Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

"The Better Part of Valor"

Carmichael / OFC

Rated – M

Warnings: This is a story that includes a sexual relationship between two women, if this isn't what you're looking for, please don't read it.

Disclaimer: No copyright or trademark infringement is meant by this story, it is a work of fiction based on fictional characters which are property of NBC Universal, and I do not intend to profit in any way by the use of them in the following story. In short, I don't own Abbie, L&O and its connections does, and I don't own Patrice, SVU and its connections does, even if only for an all too short 4 episodes!

A/N- I didn't know where to post this since its technically a crossover, so I went with the character that's actually a regular. If you don't know who this "Patrice" character is, she's the defense attorney from the S10 episode "Baggage," portrayed by the lovely Jeri Ryan. Incidentally, if you're a fan, she'll be back in the fall (very exciting).

P.S. – If you're one of the few who know where this story started, then you're probably awesome….. all 12 or so of you . If you have no idea what I mean by that, please disregard and enjoy the show…..thank you.

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Offices of Cohn, Michaels, Taylor and Greaves, Inc., NY, NY- Present Day: 

Patrice sat at her desk, furiously reviewing a transcript before her latest case went to trial the next day. Stacks of documents, folders and binders littered the desktop and a good deal of the floor, in an order only she knew the meaning of. She was not one to be caught unprepared in court, and had worked hard to earn respect, and sometimes fear, from her peers.

Her phone rang, startling her slightly. It was her loyal, but otherwise quite inept assistant Jacob. She snatched the phone,

"Jacob! I said no appointments, no calls, no nothing while I'm prepping this case. If you still want a job tomorrow, your tie better be on fire…"

"But….but…." Stammered Jacob.

"But nothing Jacob! This case goes to trial tomorrow."

"But it's…..heeey" Jacob's voice almost became a squeal. There was a slight pause and the sound of the phone being wrestled away, then another voice came on the line,

"I'll understand if you don't have time to see me darlin,' I can just come by some other time."

Patrice nearly dropped the phone as the sultry Texan drawl came through. Her heart raced involuntarily, and for a moment she stammered in spite of herself,

"Oh….its….hi…. Abbie…. when, why are you…?

Abbie smirked to herself, enjoying having caught Patrice by surprise. There was nothing better than seeing the icy blonde attorney thrown off her game.

"Just got in Patrice, I take it you can find time in your busy schedule to see me then?"

Patrice regained some control, "Show yourself in."

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Patrice watched in anticipation as the door opened and the lanky brunette slipped inside, quietly closing the door behind her and clicking the lock. She was casually dressed in low rise jeans, brown leather belt and a black form-fitting blouse, her hair falling around her shoulders in loose curls. She looked so different when she wasn't in court, though Patrice couldn't say which was better, and frankly didn't care to make the comparison.

Abbie lightly clasped her hands behind her back as she stalked across the office, pretending to admire Patrice's décor.

"I see you've been busy since I was in town last," she commented on the rows of case binders stacked on the tops of the filing cabinets.

Patrice's mind had regained some amount of control, though her body was responding quite differently to seeing Abbie. The last time they had been in the same room… well …. It had taken Patrice a full month to look her neighbors in the eye again.

"So, did you just come here to look at my case files, or what Abbie?

Abbie rounded on her and fixed her with a dangerous stare,

"Is that all you want me to look at Counsel?"

Patrice's mouth suddenly became quite dry, but she remained calm. She picked up the document she had been reviewing before Abbie arrived and stared at it as if Abbie hadn't said anything worth hearing,

"Because I have a case to prepare for…and…."

Patrice's comment was cut short as Abbie sidled up to her, and leaning over her shoulder, calmly tapped the corner of the brief the blonde was looking so interested in,

"Might help if it wasn't upside down." A wicked grin grew across the Texan's face.

Patrice knew she was busted. Abbie was one of the few people to cause her to lose her cool by just walking into the room. She slowly put down the paper and turned to the striking brunette, seeking a flicker of amusement in her dark eyes.

"You just going to stand there Tex?

Abbie regarded her coolly for a moment, then moved quickly, reaching forward she placed her hands on the arms of Patrice's chair and leaned in, placing a searing kiss on the blond's lips. Without hesitation she continued, sliding a knee between Patrice's, deepening the kiss and moving a hand up her bare leg, pausing teasingly at the hem of her skirt.

The blond moaned heatedly at Abbie's sudden movements, feeling herself lost in the moment, she reached a slightly shaky hand up to loosen her blazer, but Abbie slapped the offending hand away,

"No.," Abbie's voice was firm but seductive, she moved her hand from the arm of the chair, and quietly undid the top button, then the next, while slowly sliding the other up the blond's bare leg, reaching under her skirt.

Patrice was now far beyond trying to remain composed, she half spoke, half whimpered, "Abbie, oh… please… I need…"

The brunette paused and leaned back to admire the stunning woman currently squirming under her touch. She smirked and leaned back in to kiss her neck, while undoing the remaining buttons on Patrice's blazer and blouse, pushing them aside. She lightly placed her fingertips at the blonde's throat, tracing them slowly lower, feeling the flushed and warm skin. Reaching further down to the clasp of the blond's bra, she smiled and moved her lips to Patrice's ear,

Abbie's voice was now a low and sultry growl, "in the front? Been getting lucky darlin'?"

Patrice's eyes flashed for a moment, "There's always hope."

Abbie grinned and expertly unsnapped the clasp with one hand, leaving the other slowly traveling the inside of Patrice's thigh. She smugly appraised the situation she had created and kissed the Blonde's exposed chest before moving back to her ear,

"Floor. Now."

Patrice's mouth fell open slightly as she slid hurriedly to the floor, reaching up and grabbing Abbie by the back of the neck, forcing her down on top of her and kissing her hungrily. Abbie returned the kiss for a moment before pulling Patrice's hands away and forcing them roughly above her head on the carpet.

The brunette then lowered her head to trail kisses over Patrice's bare shoulder before sitting up and pulling off her own shirt over her head, tossing it into a nearby wall. Patrice's eyes slid over the Texan's lanky body, her breath catching as she appraised Abbie, now hovering over her clad in only a simple black bra and jeans. The brunette smiled at her captive's expression and returned her hands to Patrice, placing them lightly at the blonde's ankles, feeling her shiver and goosebumps raise as she slid them higher, pausing at the backs of her knees, moving between her legs and leaning down to kiss the Blonde who was by now squirming in anticipation, eyes half closed.

Abbie spoke as she kissed, "Well? Do I have to do everything myself?" Her tone was teasing.

Patrice whimpered as she caught Abbie's meaning and brought her hands down, grasping the hem of her own skirt and sliding it up to her waist obediently. Abbie nodded approvingly at the remaining bit of lace and fabric and reached for it, sliding her fingers under, and giving them a tug downward,

"Up," she demanded simply.

The blonde closed her eyes and lifted her hips, allowing Abbie to quickly slip the garment off, taking a moment to tuck them into the back pocket of her jeans.

She then moved back to cover the blonde, and began slowly kissing down her body, and trailing her fingers up her legs….. until they met in the middle.

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A short while later, Abbie slid back up Patrice's now still and languid body, placing kisses lightly over her. She paused as she reached her lips, capturing them briefly, then stood up as Patrice made a lazy grab for her arm.

"Hey… where are you going? I'm not finished with you."

Abbie smirked and looked down at the naked woman sprawled on her own office floor. "

Sweetie, you haven't even started with me," She silently removed a hotel key card from her pocket and tossed it down onto Patrice's bare stomach.

"I'm at the Ritz, room 1142," She stated simply and turned to retrieve her shirt, pulling it on on her way out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Copley Plaza Hotel, Boston, MA – Two Years Earlier 

Patrice excused herself from the table and quietly slipped out of the banquet room, trying not to be noticed leaving so early. As the door clicked shut behind her she sighed with relief, she had been to more than enough of these insipid awards dinners that lawyers always insisted on tacking onto conferences. Attendance wasn't mandatory, but one had to keep up appearances. She had spent the rest of the day in seminars, listening to speeches, and shaking hands. While this was exactly why she had put up with the red eye out of LAX two days ago, right now all she wanted was a drink, maybe two, and then going back to her room. Maybe a movie, or a rerun of a terribly predictable cop show, maybe all sorts of things. What she didn't want was to listen to anyone else talk right now unless they were handing her a vodka.

As the bartender slid her drink down the glossy mahogany of the bar top, Patrice turned and the lanky figure of Abbie Carmichael caught her eye. She internally rolled her eyes and hoped she wouldn't be noticed. ADA Carmichael's reputation preceded her. She had become well regarded as a hard, "take no prisoners" type of prosecutor. This alone wouldn't have made Patrice reluctant to talk to her, Patrice was a defense attorney by trade, but kept enough personal detachment to be civil with opposing counsel after hours. However, Abbie also was known for her decidedly conservative opinions, and this made the whole package too much for Patrice's liberal Californian mentality to deal with. She turned back and stared intently at her glass.

Patrice wondered quietly to herself how much confidence it must have taken Carmichael to walk out of that dinner. She had been seated at table 3, surrounded by the big names in NYC criminal litigation, including the DA and not just one former senator. She cringed imperceptibly as Abbie sidled up to the bar next to her,

"This seat taken?"

Patrice had no choice now, she smiled frostily and shook her head, "No, it's all yours."

"Thanks, couldn't deal with it either?" The Texan inquired as she nodded to the bartender.

"I'd had enough for one night," Patrice answered simply and took a sip of her vodka, which was starting to soften her mood somewhat.

Abbie ordered a beer and the bartender brought over a Boston Lager, she nodded at it and smiled slightly, "when in Rome…"

As Abbie raised the glass to her lips and took a long pull, setting it back down and gazing at the row of bottles behind the bar for a moment, Patrice regarded her with quiet interest. Despite her preconceived notions about the ADA, Patrice had to admit the smokey-eyed brunette was striking, a fact that hadn't escaped anyone present at the dinner earlier. Abbie had done the honors of introducing one of the awardees of the evening, and had done so in a soft-spoken and eloquent manner, describing what an asset to the profession whoever it had been was, and how quite deserving of the award they happened to be, and so on.

In all honesty, all Patrice had been noticing was the almost hypnotic quality of the Texan's voice, and how the short black cocktail dress she wore perfectly accented her slender form. These were details that did not go unnoticed by the male colleagues at her table either, though Patrice had restrained herself enough not to leer like a schoolboy along with them. Hell, Carmichael could have given a 4 hour seminar entitled, 'The Future of Plumbing,' and the crowd still would have been enthralled. The blond attorney found her mind wandering as Abbie's next comment brought her back to the present,

"So, is it true what they say about the golden state then?"

Patrice was caught off-guard, "What's that?"

"That its full of women, whiskey and gold? Because, if so I think I need a vacation."

It took the blonde a moment to regain her composure, she didn't quite know the correct response to that, especially coming from this particular speaker. However, she didn't wait too long to give her a vodka-laden response,

"Maybe you should just come out sometime and see."

Patrice immediately searched the brunette's eyes to see if she had taken the joke too far.

Apparently she hadn't, as the Texan gave a hearty laugh, "Maybe I will then," she drawled.

Patrice had no idea what to make of this statement, and rather than make a fool of herself, she nodded and turned back to her drink, now nearly empty. The bartender saw this, and fixed it for her.

Over the next hour, Patrice was markedly surprised with how adept Abbie was at making conversation easy, yet still maintaining a complete sense of mystery about herself. By the time Abbie turned to leave Patrice was actually sad to see her go.

The brunette slid off her barstool and took a step toward the exit before quietly turning back to Patrice,

"You coming?"

No less than five responses to this question simultaneously flashed through the blonde's mind before she rejected them all and simply nodded, tossing down a twenty on the bar, and stood to follow.

Abbie led her silently away from the bar and out of the hotel lobby toward the bank of elevators.

"Just where, exactly, are we going?"

Abbie rounded on Patrice, raising an eyebrow, "I thought that was blatantly obvious. Besides, I don't want to be caught playing hooky when that herd of suits hits the bar," she motioned to the banquet hall, from which the telltale rumble of raising voices and scraping chairs was beginning to emanate.

The brunette hit the call button, as they stood in mutual silence.

The ride up to the 25th floor was awkwardly quiet. Abbie stood stoically, two feet from the confused blond who watched her out of the corner of her eye. As the elevator doors slid open, the Texan quietly walked out and down the hall, Patrice followed her now at a loss.

Once inside Abbie's room, she closed the door behind them, clicking the lock and the bolt. She walked past Patrice who was standing somewhat uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot, and went to the mini-bar to pour a drink.

'Do you want anything?" she called over her shoulder.

"Oh, vodka if you have it," replied Patrice, who was now beginning to think another drink was definitely in order. 'What am I doing here? Why did I go with her? What exactly does she have in mind?,' thoughts were running through her mind like crazy. On those rare occasions when she had gone to a hotel room with a girl she had just met, the intent had been clear from the outset, but God, for all she knew Abbie had brought her here to discuss current legal topics. Well, she reflected, probably not, but stranger things had happened.

Moments later, Abbie emerged from the small fridge with a vodka and soda and a small bottle of whiskey, she held the glass out to Patrice and opened the whiskey, downing it without blinking. Patrice didn't know whether to be impressed or slightly intimidated, she took a long drink of her vodka and wondered what to say next.

Fortunately for her, Abbie didn't seem to be in the mood for small talk, she shrugged out of her coat, throwing it across the back of the desk chair, and advanced on the blond, her dark eyes looking her over with obvious intent.

Patrice took another drink and held out the glass to Abbie,

"Better set this down, I'd hate to have to get these clothes cleaned."

Abbie nodded and smiled quietly, took the glass and drank what was left of the Vodka in one pull before setting the empty cup down on the desk behind her. She rounded on the blonde, who had leaned against the wall in an attempt to steady her slightly shaking legs, she moved in and raised a hand to gently tuck a lock of blond hair behind Patrice's ear and looked her in the eye,

"I assume we're on the same page here?" She inquired simply, her voice low and silky. "Because if we're not, you had better leave now."

Patrice heard her loud and clear, and let out a somewhat shuddering breath. She nodded and managed a simple answer,

"I'm not going anywhere."

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Patrice rolled over, the room was still mostly dark as she glanced at the hotel clock on the nightstand, it read 6:00 am. She lay still for a moment piecing the events of the previous night together in her head. Then she stirred, getting up quietly and casting about the darkened room for her clothes which were strewn about the floor. Standing back up, she gazed over at the beautiful woman still sleeping quietly, her dark hair cascading over the white hotel pillow. She looked so peaceful, her beautiful features relaxed in sleep.

Patrice couldn't believe this was the same hard ass prosecutor who had last night been shaking hands and making jokes with the boys' club of the New York legal community, and very much holding her own. If they only knew what Patrice did now, she doubted if Abbie's career would ever be the same. For that matter, neither might Patrice's. She knew they had both had to work harder than many of their male colleagues to get the same treatment, and guarded their reputations like their lives depended on it. With these thoughts running through her head, she sighed audibly, and watched as Abbie stirred, her arm reaching out to the side of the bed that Patrice had recently vacated.

"What's wrong," Abbie murmured to Patrice sleepily as she located the blond standing at the foot of the bed, silhouetted by the growing morning light seeping in through the cracks around the blinds.

Patrice slowly shook her head and gazed back, smiling slightly, "Nothing. But I should go…. I have a flight to catch back to LA."

"Oh… ok…." Abbie trailed off, a slight sadness creeping into her voice. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, the remnants of last night's activities coalescing in her mind.

Looking at Abbie, for a moment Patrice was tempted to call the airline and put off her return, but she pushed the impulse away. Last night was what it was, and she couldn't afford to fall for anyone right now, besides, she didn't think Abbie was that kind of girl. She slid back onto the bed, reaching for the back of Abbie's neck and pulling her in for a lingering goodbye kiss.

As she pulled back and stood, pulling her clothes back on hurriedly, Abbie cleared her throat,

"Patrice…?"

"Yes?"

"I assume I can be assured of discretion on your part? What I do in my personal life has no bearing on my career, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Of course, and likewise I'm sure."

"Of course."

The brunette watched quietly as Patrice took her purse from the table, and, casting a slight smile over her shoulder, left the room. Abbie sighed and lay back down as the door clicked shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Here's part 3, all previous disclaimers still apply. Further, this is the most smutty chapter written yet so be forewarned!

Please leave a note if you like to let me know what you think :)

Equinox Fitness Club, 33rd st and Park, NY, NY – 18 Months Later 

"Thank god for nationwide chains, at least something is familiar," Patrice thought to herself as she changed out of her suit and into workout clothes in the well appointed facilities of her gym. Her first week at the NY firm she had joined had been a whirlwind of hands to shake and new cases to get up to speed on. It wasn't that she wasn't excited for the opportunity, but this was a big culture shock from the business casual atmosphere of her boutique white collar defense firm on Wiltshire to the "Big Law" style of her new job in Manhattan.

She walked out of the locker room and grabbed a treadmill, putting on her headphones and hitting the pace for a brisk 8 minute mile. As the blood started pounding in her ears she slowly tuned out of the rest of the world.

About 15 minutes and two miles later, her gaze was distracted from the news she was watching by a familiar face. It took her a moment to fully appreciate who it was, and when she did she was briefly paralyzed. However, the treadmill was not, and as she missed a step, she slid back, causing her headphones to be yanked unceremoniously from her ears. She grasped at the rails of the treadmill for support, narrowly avoiding taking a header onto the floor,

"Shit!! …Damnit!"

Eyes from around the gym turned to see what the fuss was about as Patrice struggled to act natural, and failed miserably, trying to recapture her headphones which were now dangling from the machine's monitor, bouncing as they hit the still moving belt.

One set of eyes in particular took interest in the proceeding, as ADA Abbie Carmichael sauntered past the fumbling blonde defense attorney still trying in vain to recover. Abbie quietly smirked to herself as she consciously chose a cross trainer directly in front of Patrice, and calmly began her workout.

Patrice struggled to ignore Abbie's presence, captured her loose headphones, forced them back in to her ears and hit the moving belt again, trying to recover her rhythm. About two minutes later, she realized completing her workout was now a lost cause, thoughts about the alluring Texan were too much to deal with while running an 8 minute mile.

Patrice admitted defeat and hit the stop button. Not wanting Abbie to think she was running from her presence, she walked as calmly as she could over to the matted section of the gym and stretched, just long enough to seem casual before darting for the locker room.

For Abbie's part, she watched with amusement as the blond failed miserably to appear casual, and left the room like her hair was on fire.

It wasn't that Patrice wasn't highly intrigued to have stumbled upon Abbie again, quite the contrary. If fact, knowing that Abbie practiced in New York had, while not being the driving reason behind Patrice's recent career change, had definitely crossed her mind. The problem was that Patrice didn't like surprises, not in court, not at the office, and definitely not in her personal life. What's more, her last encounter with the ADA had been more of a shock than a mere surprise and she hated to admit that she had loved it.

Patrice went about her routine, though her mind was elsewhere. Grabbing two towels on the way into the locker room, she undressed and walked to the steam, turning the dial for 20 minutes and stepping inside, and laying on the tile ledge that wrapped around the small room. As the fan started and the steam began to roll through the room, took a deep breath of the damp air, forcing herself to relax.

Moments later, Patrice opened her eyes, the steam had filled the room, pressing in on her and leaving only the two cube-shaped ceiling lights vaguely visible through the mist. She tried to focus, feeling the mist cling to her body, and her hair start to hang away from her face in wet strands.

Patrice closed her eyes again and started to drift. The loud fan and thick air nearly masked the sound of the door opening, and someone slipping inside. Patrice didn't become fully aware of her presence until the tall brunette slipped up next to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear,

'Didn't get much of a workout, did you Counsel?" Abbie's voice was low and sultry.

Patrice started, and struggled to sit up, pulling her towel back around her as best she could. "I.. I just… didn't feel…." Her voice trailed off, now completely at a loss, the room suddenly feeling much warmer.

Abbie cut her off, "its good to see you again too."

Through the thick air of the room, Abbie stared into Patrice's blue eyes and moved closer, nearly brushing their lips together, before moving back to drop her towel to the ground and slipped lightly onto the blonde's lap, her long, well toned legs straddling her.

Patrice felt her body respond immediately, and didn't protest as Abbie reached for her, tugging her towel away, and running her hands firmly over the blonde's flat stomach and up to her chest. She took in a sharp breath as Abbie closed her fingers over her breast, teasing her slowly until her back arched involuntarily, away from the wall, and against the brunette. Patrice slid her hands over Abbie's back, now slick from the condensation, breathing more quickly as their skin pressed together.

"Abbie, I…please…" Patrice's head leaned back and her eyes closed as the brunette leaned in and kissed her neck, working her way up her jaw line to her cheek, feeling Abbie start to move slowly against her.

Patrice was very near to begging for more, and quickly, when Abbie reached and caught the blonde's hand, and leaning up to allow better access, moved it firmly between her legs. Patrice didn't need any encouragement, she slipped a finger, then two through Abbie's dark curls, soon finding a rhythm as the brunette let out a slow breath through clenched teeth, and rocked with increasing speed against her.

Abbie moved her hands up to the slick wall behind Patrice's head, steadying herself, her head close to the blonde's ear. Patrice could tell by her breathing that she was close, and in response she slid her other hand up the back of Abbie's thigh, and as she pushed two fingers into her, she moved her other hand up to tease the brunette gently, then with more force as she heard Abbie let out a low groan and arched her head back, tossing her long dark hair out of her face. Patrice caught her gaze and held it for a moment, enjoying the passionate look in the brunette's eyes. Patrice smiled to herself at the sound and leaned forward to take one of Abbie's breasts in her mouth, sucking it gently, never slowing her hands. Abbie tasted amazing, her smooth skin damp from a mixture of the steam and her own sweat, she continued to run her tongue over the brunette's skin appreciatively, nipping her gently.

Seconds later, the sensations too intense to withstand any longer, Abbie rocked against Patrice's fingers more quickly, dropping her head again and letting out a stream of obscenities under her breath that would have made the roughest perp blush. As she finally lost her voice altogether, she collapsed, leaning her forehead into the damp wall.

Feeling Abbie leaning, spent against her, the blond couldn't help but smile. She moved her hands slowly up Abbie's back, pulling her in and kissing her neck as the brunette breathed the steam-filled air more slowly.

After a moment, Abbie recovered slightly and began to kiss the blonde again when the fan clicked off, and the room fell silent.

"Not here, the steam will be gone soon and we'll be giving the locker room a good show," Patrice grinned.

Abbie sighed in resignation and leaned her forehead against Patrice's for a moment before sliding off of her and retrieving her towel from the floor, pulling it around her, she gazed at the blonde through the steam,

"Then we'll just have to finish this some other time."

She turned and left silently, leaving a slightly stunned and somewhat smug Patrice alone again in the steam.


	4. Chapter 4

New York State Supreme Court, Manhattan division, Department 42- Two days later:

Patrice checked the file in her hand again against the number on the courtroom door carefully. Today was her first court appearance in her new job. She still wasn't sure about going to court so quickly after being handed the case, but the managing partner had assured her it was just a routine arraignment. She looked over the facts again as she took a seat in the gallery and waited. Her client was accused of rape, but was claiming his ex-girlfriend was just looking to squeeze some hush money out of his father, who was a prominent banker in the city, and a near fixture in the style section.

"All rise," the bailiff called as the judge entered from her chambers and took the bench for the morning session.

Patrice stood out of habit, looking up from the file as the Judge made her entrance. Judge Elizabeth Donnelly's reputation preceded her, and Patrice had been briefed on what to expect as she had been handed the case. The official comment was 'tough but fair' while the water cooler gossip alluded to a more victim-friendly jurisprudence than most. Moreover, as legends tend to grow, everyone she talked to seemed to have a classmate, friend, or acquaintance who had been either sanctioned or held in contempt by her. None appeared to be able to make such claims personally.

As Donnelly motioned for the courtroom to be seated Patrice sank back down into her chair, her case was third on the calendar, and Patrice quickly glanced around the room, wondering who the ADA assigned was. In L.A. she had gotten to know most of her opposing counsel in her white collar cases, and would do more of her work making deals and arrangements in the hallways then ever actually played out in the courtroom. She had to admit, she felt at a distinct disadvantage coming in blind to any type of hearing, even just an arraignment.

As the second matter was disposed of and her case was called, Patrice rose and moved to the defense table, looking out of the corner of her eye to see who she would have to deal with. Strangely, however, she didn't see anyone else moving. Donnelly shuffled some papers, and then looked up expectantly, fixing the blonde attorney with a quizzical gaze.

"Patrice LaRue for the defense your honor, I apologize for having noticed my appearance only yesterday but I have just received this case."

Donnelly appraised her and then nodded slowly, turning her attention to the still empty podium usually occupied by the ADA during arraignments.

She looked over to one of the clerks, "Sam, who is assigned …" Donnelly paused as the courtroom doors opened again, "Oh, Miss Carmichael, glad you decided to grace us with your presence today…"

Patrice whipped around just in time to see Abbie stride confidently into the room, wearing a conservative navy suit, her long dark hair pulled demurely into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Abbie glanced over at Patrice and nodded dismissively. If she was surprised to see her, she sure didn't let it show.

The ADA reached the front of the courtroom, simultaneously setting down her files on the podium, and appeased the Judge, "I apologize your honor, we had a delay in the grand jury proceedings this morning."

Donnelly nodded disinterestly at the young ADA, "Yes Miss Carmichael, you're just in time, please proceed."

Patrice felt the color rise in her cheeks, _Oh. Dear. Lord_. What the hell was Abbie doing here?? Well, Patrice knew exactly what she was doing here, but couldn't manage to wrap her head around it. Did Carmichael know about this case when??… her mind traveled back 48 hours, serving to further distract her from her present predicament. The blond attorney struggled to suppress the memories lest she loose not only her train of thought, but her sense of balance.

Patrice's mind was still furiously trying to get a grip on the situation as her client, barely 18 and terrified looking, was led in by the court officer. She shook herself mentally and tried to get her courtroom demeanor back in place,

"We waive reading your honor."

Donnelly nodded and, after looking down to read the charges herself, turned to Abbie, "I'll hear the People on bail.."

Abbie glanced up at the judge, addressing her in her low yet confident courtroom tone, "The people request remand your honor, the defendant's family has significant means, and is accused of a brutal attack on.."

Patrice got her bearings enough to respond, "Your honor, I respectfully object to the ADA's embellishment of the offense, and her insinuation of dishonestly on the part of defendant's family, who are upstanding and charitable citizens…"

Donnelly cut them both off as Abbie was about to speak up again, "That's enough you two. Miss Carmichael, I'm not going to hold him until trial, but he will turn in his passport, and bail is set at one million, cash or bond. Anything else we need to deal with?"

Having pushed back the vivid memories of the last time she had been in the same room with A.D.A. Carmichael for now, Patrice was back in her courtroom persona. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out two stacks of folded blue papers, handing one to the clerk, and the other to Abbie, trying not to meet her gaze directly,

"Yes your honor, I'm moving to quash the evidence obtained by the illegal search of my client's room, as well as for a deposition of the victim, and I am requesting a summary judgment hearing."

Donnelly's eyebrows raised considerably as her clerk passed her the papers, "That all Miss LaRue, or would you just like to give your opening statement today?"

Patrice knew when she was pushing the envelope, and shook her head, "No your honor, not just yet."

Donnelly turned back to the A.D.A., who was now flipping through the documents, "And will the People be filing any motions at this hearing?"

Abbie looked up, "Not at this time your honor, but our investigation is ongoing."

Donnelly nodded, "noted, I assume both parties waive notice?"

"Yes."

"Yes your honor."

"Good, the Defendant will be taken into custody pending bail," Donnelly turned to the court officer, "call the next case."

As her client was led away, Patrice informed him to remain silent until he made bail. She then turned and hurried out of the courtroom, hoping to catch Abbie in the hall and ask her a few choice questions about their present situation. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure what she was going to say to Abbie, but she couldn't just go back to the office and ignore the situation. Moreover, if Carmichael had knowingly gone into that hearing without giving Patrice a courtesy call, she was going to let Abbie know exactly how she felt about it.

Closing the door behind her, Patrice glanced down the corridor, now filled with attorneys and their clients waiting for hearings and talking, Carmichael was gone. _Wow, that girl moves like a puma_, the blond mused to herself. However, people didn't generally get away that easily when Patrice had a score to settle with them.

She turned on her phone, and made a quick call to her office about an address….


	5. Chapter 5

Office of Assistant District Attorney Abbie Carmichael, NY, NY, -Same Day.

Abbie glanced up from her files long enough to see it was well past her usual lunch hour, no wonder she was suddenly hungry. She didn't really feel like going out, or bothering to find someone to get her something, she honestly didn't have the time today. Court had taken far longer than she had hoped this morning and now she was miserably behind on her work for the week. Besides, given this morning's 'developments' in the Alston case, she was feeling more motivated than before to win this one.

She sighed, well then, lunch al a the vending machine it was then. She rummaged through her desk, emerging with a dollar in change, and went down the hall to get a snack, returning a few moments later with a bag of animal crackers. It wasn't her first choice, but it was the most she could get for her spare coins.

Abbie sat and leaned back in her desk chair, and surveying the files sprawled across the desk, mentally making a "to do" list. She was too distracted by her train of thought and ripped the package open along the entire length of the bag, causing a deluge of bite-sized animals to scatter across the file in front of her.

"Damnit….," she quietly swore to herself, collecting the bite-sized animal figures and pushing them into a pile. She smiled as the shapes brought back memories from so long ago she couldn't put her finger on it. Abbie picked one up, her mind wandering… so many zebras….

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It took Patrice a few wrong turns, and three passes by the same hot dog vendor, before she realized her assistant had given her the wrong address, the delay had making her even more frustrated than she was already. Jacob was lucky he was safely on the 41st floor of her office building, she mused.

She finally rounded the corner and found the building she was looking for, her heels clicking on the stonework of the entryway as she approached security,

"I'm here to see A.D.A. Carmichael, she's …expecting me," Patrice flashed the guard a smile and he didn't question her.

"4th floor, second office on the right."

"Thank you," she breezed past him to the elevators, her smile fading as she prepared what she was going to say to Abbie, remembering her earlier humiliation.

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Abbie casually glanced up when she heard the knock on her door,

"Come in."

*Thud*

Patrice flung the door open and stormed inside, crossing the room quickly and slamming her briefcase down on Abbie's desk, making the crackers, and everything else, rattle. She leaned on it, glaring at the brunette, and began to take out her frustration, not giving her time to respond,

"What the hell was that this morning?!? Putting aside for a moment the glaring conflicts of interest this creates…. I mean, do you always jump the defense attorney before arraignment, or should I feel special here Abbie?"

Abbie opened her mouth to respond, but the blonde wasn't finished,

"….Granted, usually I get paid good money to fuck with opposing counsel, but it's not supposed to be so literal…. nor do they generally enjoy it!"

Abbie calmly finished chewing, and pushed the crackers and a few papers aside and stood as Patrice continued her tirade,

"….I mean, did you just look at the file and think you'd use the element of surprise? For God's sake Abbie, for all I know you were late on purpose… and further…."

The blond was so caught up she didn't quite register Abbie's movements until it was too late, the brunette smoothly climbed onto her desk, closing the distance swiftly and kneeling at eye level with the Patrice, grabbing her by the shoulders with both hands and firmly pulling her in, kissing her fiercely.

Everything seemed to stop. When their lips finally parted, Patrice was so surprised she completely lost any idea as to why she had been yelling at this stunning woman in the first place.

"What …. I …. What was that for??" Patrice swallowed and stared into Abbie's dark eyes, catching a flicker of amusement deep within.

"That was to shut that mouth of yours….and this is for looking so good when you're worked up," Abbie slid a hand up to the back of Patrice's neck and drew her in, kissing her more slowly, sliding a hand up to loosen her thick blonde hair, and running her hands through it. As Abbie's tongue slid into her mouth, Patrice moaned quietly in spite of herself.

She felt her body start to melt, leaning into the dark beauty's arms, and dropping her lips to kiss Abbie's neck. Like a pavlovian response, Abbie's scent… bergamot and a hint of vanilla, brought her back to that night she first slept with this striking woman, how the brunette had taken her wordlessly, without even taking time to reach the hotel bed.

Abbie's breath quickened, but she controlled her impulses, and pushed the blond back gently, knowing if she allowed this to go much further, she wouldn't be getting anything else done today,

"Hey… wait, not here…"

Patrice felt Abbie pull away and took a reluctant step back, pausing to consider the scene in front of her. Abbie was still kneeling on her desk, in full court attire, one hand on her hip, and the other smoothing her hair. The blond had to admit, this was a first for her.

Abbie broke the brief silence,

"Have dinner with me."

"What?"

"You heard me, it was a simple request."

Patrice shook her head in resignation, this whole situation was clearly getting beyond her, "Okay, why not, I suppose this can't get more confusing than it already is."

"Wow, flattery will get you nowhere Patrice," Abbie deadpanned, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Patrice smiled bemusedly and took her briefcase back from the desk as Abbie climbed back off of it, smoothing her skirt.

"Meet me at Whiskey Park around 7?"

Patrice looked unsure, "where is that?"

Abbie tilted her head and gave Patrice a slight grin in reply, "your cab driver will know I'm sure."

She nodded back in agreement and started to leave, turning back to give Abbie a curious smile, looking pointedly at Abbie's desk, "Can I ask about the crackers?"

"Lunch," Abbie answered simply with a shrug, "want one?"

"No… but maybe some other time," she smiled slightly and left the ADA's office, closing the door much more quietly than she had opened it just moments before.

As Patrice's slender form disappeared into the hall, Abbie leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath.

It took Patrice fully half of the walk back to her office to put together the fact that she had gone to Carmichael's office to tell her off for this morning, and had somehow agreed to go on a date with her instead.


	6. Chapter 6

Whiskey Park, 100 Central Park S., NY, NY- Same day

Abbie was right, her cab driver did know where it was. Patrice got out and went into the building, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkened interior. The establishment was modern and eloquent, plush couches and chairs were arranged around the room giving the place a lounge atmosphere, a long bar with gentle backlights hugging the length of the wall. The music permeated the air, a steady pulsing beat overlaid with melodic tones that sank into the corkboard walls and ceiling, fading the multitude of conversations into a steady hum in the background.

Patrice gazed around the room at the clientele, a mix of suits out for an end of the workweek drink, and the early crowd just starting their Friday nights out. It took her a few moments to find Abbie sitting at a corner table in the back, relaxing into the leather banquette and nursing something in a highball glass. She was chewing thoughtfully on a thin cocktail straw, gazing at the park out of the tinted windows.

The blonde sidled up to Abbie, giving her a slightly amused look, "Nice choice Carmichael. However, I have to admit I'm a little surprised…. It's so…. 'New York' I suppose… for lack of a better term."

Abbie feigned slight offense, but her smirk betrayed her amusement, "Oh, and what did you expect? A rib joint with a faux saloon door, and me with my boots kicked up on a chair, drinkin' a Dixie beer?"

Patrice opened her mouth to answer, then thought better of it and gave Abbie a noncommittal shrug instead.

Abbie quietly enjoyed the blond's confusion for a moment before continuing,

"Because if that's what you were looking for, come find me Saturday."

The brunette smirked at Patrice's surprised look and slid over slightly, motioning to the bench next to her,

"Well, you planning on having a seat?"

Patrice put her things on a chair and moved to sit next to Abbie, shaking her head, "You just keep surprising me Carmichael, and that's not an easy thing to do anymore."

A striking blonde waitress approached, Abbie gave her a nod and received an ingratiating smile in return. She then turned to Patrice and curtly took her order. As the waitress walked away Patrice turned back to the brunette, nodding slowly in amusement and excused herself to go freshen up. Abbie watched her leave appreciatively before turning back to her drink. As she took a sip, she heard her phone vibrate. Checking it, she saw she had missed a call earlier.

When Patrice returned, she found Abbie looking distracted, fumbling with her cell.

"Hey, something wrong?"

"No, actually… I'm just a little surprised… I actually got the job," Abbie smiled up at Patrice, continuing, "I just applied so long ago and didn't honestly expect to get it," Her voice trailed off, the news sinking in.

Patrice smiled broadly and slipped back to her place next to Abbie, sliding a hand over her thigh under the table, "That's great, congratulations! What's the job?"

The implications were slowly starting to sink in for the brunette, she gazed at her drink, "It's a great opportunity.. it's just…. it's in D.C."

If Patrice was upset at the news she covered well, "that's great… really, congrats Abbie. Looks like I won't be faced with such fierce opposing counsel after all. So, when do you start?"

Abbie stared at her phone again, a smile of disbelief crossing her lips, "Monday."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I… I have so much to do," Abbie shook her head in bemusement.

Patrice regarded her quietly for a moment, "Are you planning on doing it all tonight?"

"I doubt it," The brunette responded, giving Patrice a quiet smile.

Patrice finished her drink, "Well then, want to get out of here?"

Abbie was still in a state of slight shock, but didn't protest as Patrice stood and slid her coat back on, tossing some bills down on the table as she did so. She filed out of the bar after Patrice, reaching the street and sliding into a cab after her.

They rode to Patrice's building in mutual contemplative silence. Arriving, the blond led Abbie to the elevator. As the doors closed, Abbie moved closer and quietly took Patrice by the hand, drawing her a little closer and leaned over to kiss her on the shoulder before trailing her lips up the blond's neck.

By the time elevator reached the 24th floor, the women inside had abandoned their restraint, and emerged in a tangle of arms, their lips locked together. Patrice haphazardly backed them down the hall, finding her keys and opening the door.

Abbie shoved Patrice inside, flipping a light switch and lunging at her, reclaiming her lips with her own. They picked their way around the moving boxes still littering the floors, Abbie backing the blond into the kitchen and up against the counter. She half sighed, half growled as she tugged at Patrice's clothes, ridding her of her blazer and unbuttoning her blouse with practiced skill. Patrice reached for the hem of Abbie's shirt, only to be brushed away, Abbie pausing her pursuits long enough to capture both of Patrice's wrists and shoving her hands onto the edge of the counter, closing her fingers around the edge. The brunette gave them a squeeze, and bit down on Patrice's neck, making it clear that the blond was to keep them there.

Abbie released Patrice's neck, noting that she would be wearing high necklines for at least a week. Abbie's hands roamed freely, pushing Patrice's shirt open, and unclasping her bra. She quickly slid the garment up, replacing her hands with her mouth, kissing, and nipping at Patrice's increasingly flushed skin. Feeling her body respond to Abbie's touch, Patrice moaned heatedly through clenched teeth.

As the brunette moved her kisses lower, she felt Patrice run a hand through her hair. Abbie paused, giving the blond a dangerous look,

"Hands back on the counter Patrice, or do I need to give you some incentive?"

Patrice wasn't prepared for the reaction she had to those words. She felt her knees weaken as she slowly moved her hands back to the counter. Abbie grinned at her and continued, pausing to drag her tongue across the squirming blond's firm stomach, lingering on her navel before sliding to her knees and unzipping Patrice's skirt, pulling it off and allowing the blond to step out. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the counter, but she didn't move her hands, even when Abbie slowly began to slide her panties down with her teeth.

Abbie finished undressing her captive and smiled up at her, enjoying the expressions playing on the bond's features. She slid a hand along the woman's slender leg, feeling a shiver run through her and goosebumps cover the smooth skin. Abbie pushed Patrice's legs apart, allowing her better access and slipped her hand up to run through the blond curls, slowly pushing, one finger and then two inside, enjoying the sounds she was eliciting. Abbie leaned in closer as Patrice began to rock slowly against her hand, kissing the soft skin of her thigh. She took her time teasing her before relenting and moving to lick her center, first softly, then faster and longer as Patrice began to lose control, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Abbie continued her pursuits, sliding her free hand up to cover Patrice's, which was still gripping the counter furiously. She added a third finger, and soon heard the blond's breath catch as she came, her head pushed back, breathing Abbie's name.

Seconds later, her shaking legs unwilling to hold her up any longer, she sunk slowly onto the floor, kneeling even with Abbie and leaned into her, placing slow kisses on the brunette's delicate neck. As she recovered she stood, pulling Abbie up with her, seeing passion flickering in those deep eyes. Patrice leaned down and pulled on her skirt and blouse, not bothering with her undergarments. Abbie gave her a quizzical look. The blond just smiled and took her hand, pulling her in for a quick but forceful kiss before grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and leading her out of the apartment, taking the elevator to the roof.

The roof deck was well adorned with tasteful outdoor furniture and at this late hour was deserted, Patrice's fellow residents long having gone to bed or out to bars and clubs. Abbie stood near the railing and quietly crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully as she surveyed the skyline surrounding them.

Patrice slid up behind her, moving her long dark hair aside and kissing the back of Abbie's neck quietly,

"Enjoying the view Tex?"

In spite of the pleasant temperature, Abbie shivered slightly. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she turned around, giving Patrice an appreciative once-over,

"Definitely."

Patrice grinned at her and moved in, pushing the brunette down onto one of the oversized lounge chairs, following after and claiming her lips with her own, intent on making the most of the rest of the night.

000000000000000000000000

The summer night was still warm, the sounds of the city below were mingling together, and a few dim stars just visible in the dark sky above. Patrice lay quietly on one of the cushioned benches of her building's roof deck, just on the edge of drifting off, feeling more content than she had in years.

A hint of sadness crept over her, and she pulled the blanket closer around them against the encroaching night's chill. She let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for ages, turning to press her lips to the forehead of the beautiful woman who lay beside her. Her arm beneath the brunette had lost feeling long ago, but she couldn't bring herself to move it and risk disturbing Abbie from her sleep.

Patrice wasn't ready to face the fact that the hours would inevitably march on into morning and the all too certain advancement of real life. She still didn't quite understand how she had ended up here, on a New York rooftop with a woman she hardly knew, but felt so uncontrollably drawn to be near.

And she would be gone by Monday.

Though she was sad to see her go, Patrice had no illusion that she had reason to ask Abbie to stay. Were the roles to have been reversed, Patrice knew she would have been booking her ticket already. She took a deep breath, her eyes tracing the night sky, trying to gain a bit of perspective.

Abbie stirred quietly in her sleep, moving closer and nuzzling her face into Patrice's neck. The brunette was so soft and warm as she dozed, but Patrice finally gave into logic and leaned down to kiss her, quietly waking her.

She murmured, "hey… babe…. we should go inside."

Abbie kissed her back, looking up at Patrice, their eyes meeting for a moment. She smiled sleepily and nodded, allowing Patrice to pull her up from the cushions. They dressed quickly and as Patrice turned to leave, Abbie griped her shoulder, turning her around and pulling her into a lingering kiss before taking her hand, and leading her back downstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

American Airlines Flight 1447, Seat 4F- Three days later 

"…….We'll be approximately 90 minutes in flight today at a cruising altitude of 32000 feet. Thank you for choosing American Airlines, and we hope you enjoy your flight to Washington Dulles International Airport."

Abbie only half listened to the announcement as sighed as she buckled her seatbelt, pulling out the latest ABA Journal and pretending to read, but for some reason none of the articles held her attention.

The last few days had been a whirlwind of making arrangements, phone calls, and packing. She hadn't ever really considered not taking the job, the career advancement was too big of a pull and the significant pay raise didn't hurt any either. In fact, she had moved in such a hurry that she would be checking into a hotel for the first few weeks while she found an apartment and waited for her things to be delivered. However, when the DOJ says "see you Monday," you don't really have much of a choice.

The trouble was that she was finding herself wishing she could have had just a few more weeks in New York to see what might happen. She pushed the thought aside; Abbie had learned long ago to follow her head rather than her heart. If she'd followed her heart she probably would still be in Houston rescuing puppies or petitioning to save historic buildings. Unfortunately, no matter how noble, such pursuits do not pay the bills.

Still though, why was she feeling so conflicted when the correct choice was so clear and she had already made it? She'd only been in the same timezone with Patrice for what, a week? She knew Patrice was just as driven as Abbie, and the blonde hadn't seemed at all surprised at Abbie's decision to move on such short notice. Besides, she was sure her office would need her back from time to time, at least while they got someone new to take her significant case load, Jack wasn't that self-sufficient.

As the plane gained altitude and leveled out the flight attendant brought her a drink. Abbie took it, and craned her neck to watch the familiar New York skyline fading into the distance. She smiled quietly, her glass raised in a silent toast, before sliding the plastic shade down and turning to wonder about the future.


End file.
